Shake the Feeling
by Jasmine2009
Summary: A new agent is on loan from another department and Tony's jealous, or so it would seem.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Shake the Feeling  
Author: Jasmine AKA: Jasmine2009  
Date: July 27, 2013  
Universe: NCIS Season 8  
Rated: K+  
Warnings: None really. One or two curse words, but nothing more than that.  
Summary: A new agent is on loan from another department and Tony's jealous, or so it would seem.  
Author's comment: The is the second in my "dust bunnies" series (those stories I never finished for reasons ranging from I got bored to this is total crap and I'm embarrassed I even thought of it.) I'm on a quest to clear some of them out so read at your own leisure/risk. Being as I'm a writer at heart, any comment a reader takes the time to post is always greatly appreciated. ~Jasmine

********************************8

"Who is that guy?" Tony asked, as he watched the stranger walk towards the elevator. When he noticed Ziva following the man's derriere instead of answering his question, he popped, "Hey!"

She blinked out of her trance and answered, "He is the visiting NCIS agent from Hawaii. Rather attractive, don't you think?"

"No, not really. Why is he here?"

She enjoyed watching her partner this way. He didn't like competition, especially when the competition was younger and maybe, just maybe, better looking. "He is on loan for a couple of weeks helping us figure out the best way to capture the Bali Killer."

"Since when do we need help?"

Instead of answering, she turned her back on him coyly and returned to her desk. She had leads to track down, people to follow up with, and research to do if she wanted to be prepared for her boss's return. She glanced up at her partner who was still staring at the now empty hallway. "What is the matter Tony? You have a stick up your craw."

He looked down at her, amazed. "How can you get that idiom correct when you can't even remember the term black sheep? You constantly want to say black goat?"

Gibbs turned the corner and said, "Grab your gear, we got another murder."

*********************************8

Tony brought the camera to his eye and snapped. Through the lens, he saw a woman's body, disfigured and partially covered with leaves. Ducky would confirm time of death, but to his untrained eye, he would guess at least several weeks.

"Whad'ya got?"

Not recognizing the voice, Tony turned around and saw the new guy standing a few feet away behind him with his hands perched authoritatively on his hips. For some reason, this guy rubbed him wrong. "We got a dead female, approximate age 29. Who are you?"

Embarrassed, the man reached out a hand and said, "I'm sorry, I guess we haven't been formally introduced. I'm Special Agent William Cahoon, NCIS, Hawaii. You can call me Will."

"Tony DiNo—"

"—DiNozzo, I know. I did my homework before I came to the mainland."

"Why did you come to the mainland, Will?"

McGee watched with amusement.

"I thought Agent Gibbs told everyone? I'm helping out with the Bali Killer. The Director felt that a fresh set of eyes might be helpful."

"Tony?" Gibbs called. "Help Ziva canvas the area."

"On it."

McGee stepped up next to Will and smiled, "Don't worry about him. He sort of gives everyone who's new a hard time."

As Tony walked away from the body, he felt eyes following him across the parking lot, and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

*******************************8

Stepping off the elevator, McGee stated, "I, for one, am glad to have his help. The more eyes looking at this case the better."

"Since when have we needed more eyes?" Tony countered. "I think we have enough eyes, ears, and anything else needed to solve this case."

Ziva slid out of her jacket and said, "Evidently, Director Vance does not agree. He approved the request."

"Request? You mean we requested him?"

"Not exactly. He sort of requested us," McGee explained.

"Why are you upset?" Ziva asked. "He is doing all the work you hate to do. He is logging in the evidence, running down the more obscure leads, and he is even playing…" she waved her hand around trying to come up with the right word, "dog!"

"Dog?"

"Yes, he is going and fetching things for you. Dog."

McGee squinted his eyes at the image, then corrected, "You mean gopher."

"Gopher?" she repeated, unsure of herself.

"Yeah, a small rodent that does menial tasks."

Tony almost couldn't contain his disbelief, "I think it's the other gofer, as in: Ziva, will you gofer some pizza?"

"Whatever!" she interrupted their interpretation of her English. "The point is Will Cahoon is here to stay whether you like it or not."

"I don't like it. He's…he's—"

"—Good looking?" she offered.

"Pleasant to be around?" McGee added.

"Younger?" she said, "and he drives a Mustang."

"And he already has a date with Michelle in Accounting," McGee added, almost gloating over the tidbit of gossip.

Ziva and McGee shared a smile, knowing they were driving their colleague crazy. Tim looked straight at Tony and said, "In other words, he's you, only better."

There was no use arguing with either of them. Tony couldn't explain how he felt, just that he didn't feel right about this new guy. "Well, if it's all the same to both of you, I think I'll keep him at a distance. I'm not sure I trust him."

Gibbs rounded the bullpen and said, "Tony, go help Abby."

"On it, Boss."

Gibbs waited for Tony to pass before looking at the seat that Will Cahoon was supposed to be occupying. "Where is he?"

McGee shrugged, "He's probably over in Accounting. Rumor has it he was successful at asking Michelle out."

Gibbs could almost appreciate that feat, however, now was not the time to be developing a love interest. A cold hard stare conveyed to McGee what he was thinking.

"I'll call him and get him back here."

"Good idea. Ziva, what do we know about the victim?"

Clicking on the remote, she spoke to the image on the plasma, "Her name is Mandy Barnes, 28 years old, and she just got out of the Navy. She enlisted while she was in college, did her time and opted out when her commitment was done. She is a native of Delaware, went to New Dominion College in Virginia, and was planning to marry in three months."

McGee picked up, "She was a routing clerk at Norfolk Naval Station. She never got into any trouble, not so much as a reprimand in her file. Her superiors speak highly of her."

"Who's she marrying?"

"A civilian named Melvin Morales. He's a construction worker for a Maryland based company."

"Go check him out. McGee, go with her."

Gibbs sat down at his desk, looking through the stack of files that had accumulated. He began thinking about the murders. This last victim makes four killings in all. The first killing was here, the next one was in Hawaii, then he killed in Seattle, and now he's back in DC.

An out of breath Will Cahoon hurried up in front of his desk and said, "Sorry, Special Agent Gibbs. McGee said you wanted to see me?"

"Yeah. I want you running down all correspondences that Mandy Barnes made in the last twenty four hours. I want cell records, bank records, movie ticket stubs… anything that she did, I want to know what it was and who she did it with."

"Sure, Agent Gibbs. I'll have the list compiled by tomorrow."

Gibbs cocked his head, pursed his lips slightly, and glared.

Confused, Cahoon hesitantly said, "Is there something else you want me to do?"

"Nope."

"Then is something wrong? You're looking at me kinda funny."

"I need the information today."

Cahoon nodded slowly, "Okay. Today it is."

He took off his jacket and slid into the small cubicle next to McGee's desk. He rolled up his sleeves and began pounding away on the keyboard, searching for information. He clearly wasn't used to the intense work ethic of his east coast counterparts; Hawaii was much more laid back. But now he realizes exactly why Special Agent Gibbs has the reputation he does.

***********************************8

"Abs, El Jefe sent me down to help you. Not sure why he sent me, but he did, so what I can do for you?"

Abby loved it when Tony came to visit. "You, dear sir, are the sprinkle to my icing, the sugar to my Caf Pow, and the lemon to my broccoli, but like you, I'm not sure why Gibbs would send you and not McGee?"

"You'll have to ask him that question. I just follow orders." 'The lemon to my broccoli?' he scrunched his nose imagining the taste.

"Well, in that case, you can begin by looking over those bags of evidence. I'm not sure what I'm looking for, but maybe you can come up with something."

"Sure thing." He picked up the first bag full of bloody garments and dirt. Not exactly the stuff that jumps out and says, 'check me for chlorohydrate residue!', but he examined it anyway. "Hey, Abby?"

"Yeah?"

"You've seen the new guy, Will Cahoon?"

"Yeah," she swooned, "what a hottie."

Tony looked at her out of the corner of his eye and then back at the evidence on the table. "What do your Gothic senses tell you about him?"

"Well, I know he's single, but he's definitely not my type. He managed to get Michelle in accounting to go out with him. That's gotta say something about him, don't you think? Of course, he also got Maggie, Stephanie, and Lynn to go out with him, too. He's a pretty busy guy."

"Yeah, a regular Boy Wonder," Tony mumbled under his breath. Trying to conceal his frustration, he continued, "So, there are no red flags that go up when he's around? No bat signals that light up the night sky when you see him? No omens interfering with the earth's rotation when you speak to him?"

She stopped clicking on her computer and turned to face him. "Why are you asking me these questions?"

"Just curious."

She narrowed her eyes, "No, you're not curious. You're jealous! You're jealous that this younger, attractive, available federal agent is in your territory."

"I'm not jealous, Abs. I can't put my finger on it, but there's something about him that doesn't set right with me."

She studied him; he was being sincere. Something was definitely bothering him. "Have you told Gibbs?"

"Tell him what? He'll think what you thought and what Ziva and McGee are thinking. If he can help us catch the Bali Killer, I'll personally take him out and buy him the biggest steak dinner at the best restaurant in DC. But I got a bad feeling about him, Abs. I just got a bad feeling…"

She slowly turned back around and faced her computer. If Tony had concerns, they shouldn't be ignored. It was a rare day when Tony's gut was wrong, but that would mean something was wrong with Will. And Tony was right about one thing: nobody would believe it was anything other than good ole' fashioned jealousy.

********************************8

When Tony walked past, Will Cahoon was hunched over his computer screen, tapping away on the keys. Whatever he was doing, he was very intent on doing it.

"Boss? Abby found a second blood type on Mandy Barnes' clothes. She's running the analysis now."

Gibbs never bothered looking up from his file, but he ticked his head and said, "Help him."

Tony looked at Cahoon and was just about to protest when he realized his boss had slipped away. Rethinking his position, he asked himself, why not? At least this way he could keep an eye on him and see what he was doing. He sauntered over to his desk and peered down until Cahoon looked up.

"May I help you?" Will asked.

Tony smiled, "Probably not, but maybe I can help you. What have you done so far?"

Will looked relieved to be able to offload some of his work and gladly turned over the financial data. Tony smiled when he realized what he'd been given and said, "Don't like looking through numbers, huh?"

Cahoon grinned and shook his head, "Nope, never have. Don't even like looking at my own bank statements. Sort of depressing, if you ask me."

Tony remembered the clandestine dates he'd had with Michelle in accounting several months back and almost laughed out loud. If this guy couldn't bring himself to look through bank statements, he was never going to last an evening with Michelle. She lived to crunch numbers and that was all she did. She was nothing more than a boring bean counter who just happened to be wrapped in a very pretty package. But even the pretty package wasn't enough to keep him going back for more. She talked incessantly about budgets and even managed to take that one dimensional talent right into the bedroom. He'd never told anyone about their brief stint together because she had asked him not to. She said she had a reputation to protect.

"You going out with Michelle in accounting?"

He poked his head around the partition and said, "Yeah. How'd you know?"

"Wild guess. You should brush up on these numbers if you want to impress her. She works in accounting for a reason, Will. Trust me, she'll like you more if you can tell a debit column from a credit column."

"I'm hoping we don't spend too much time talking, if you know what I mean."

"Oh yeah," he mumbled, feeling protective over Michelle, "I know exactly what you mean." Pushing those thoughts aside, he went back to his computer screen. But his heart wasn't in it. Every time he finished reading a statement and went to go the next one, he realized he hadn't comprehended anything he'd just read, and had to start over again. His mind kept drifting, so much so that he began to wonder if the others were right. Maybe he was jealous. Maybe he didn't like it that a younger version of him was basically honing in on his territory.

After giving that thought a few minutes to percolate, he killed it. He knew jealousy, and this wasn't it.

****************************************8

Tony couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned until he finally rolled out of bed, got dressed and drove to the Navy Yard. He scrolled through Mandy Barnes' financial data, this time making sense of everything. It all seemed to be in order. No huge deposits, no huge withdrawals, no unusual activity. He wondered if he should attack the rest of her records, but decided Cahoon could do that.

Thinking about him, he wondered how his date went with Michelle. He wondered if Cahoon were the kind of guy who would kiss and tell, or if he were more of a gentleman.

He closed down his computer, locked up his files, and opened his draw to retrieve his gun when a thought occurred to him. Looking around the room suspiciously, a habit he'd developed during his time tracking Ziva, he non-chalantly sauntered over to the desk Will was using and looked around. There was nothing obvious on or around the work area. He clicked on the computer and logged in. Using his ID and password, he was able to access the search logs for Will Cahoon. He spotted it immediately, but didn't know what to make of it. Will had logged many searches on Mandy Barnes, but he had also logged one search on a Navy Destroyer, the USS O'Kane, home port: Pearl Harbor.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

****************************8

"Boss, I think we found something," McGee said as both he and Ziva entered the bullpen together.

Tony looked up from his screen. They were excited and he had to admit that he'd like nothing more than to have a lead to run down. Before joining his colleagues at the plasma, he minimized his screen, sending a photo of the USS O'Kane down to his task bar.

Ziva began, "We talked to her fiancé, Melvin Morales, and he said they were having a destination wedding in Hawaii. Three weeks ago, he and Mandy Barnes took a weekend trip to Honolulu to check out the resort, The Colony by the Sea."

"I know that place," Will said, "very popular for weddings and corporate parties."

Tony cast him a sideways glance while images of Michelle popped into his head.

McGee pushed the other victims' faces to the screen and asked, "You'll never guess who else went to The Colony by the Sea? All three of the previous victims spent time there. Our first victim went as an attendant in her friend's wedding, our second victim attended as a guest of the groom, and the third victim…well, we're still trying to figure out her connection."

"That's good work," Gibbs said, and then he paused waiting for them to anticipate his requests.

McGee piped up first, "I'm finding out the connection between our third victim and the resort."

Ziva came in next, "Pulling records on all employees of the resort, past and present."

Tony added, "Cross checking other potential people and activities that they may have come in contact with at the resort, Boss."

Will and Gibbs were the only ones left standing, and when Gibbs looked at him expectantly, Will stuttered for the right words.

Tony enjoyed watching the newbie squirm and was anxious to hear what Gibbs was going to have him do, but Gibbs only motioned with his finger and said, "Come on, you're with me." Annoyed, Tony followed them until they disappeared out of sight. Then, even after they were gone, he continued to stare down the corridor in their direction.

"What is the matter, Tony?" Ziva said. "Are you still jealous?"

"I am not jealous."

"Have you heard anything about his date with Michelle?"

Tony had no interest in discussing Cahoon's date with Michelle but he did have another question for McGee. "No," he said to her and then turned sideways to face Tim. "What do you know about Navy Destroyers?"

McGee was taken aback by the question, "Does this have anything to do with our case?"

"Yes."

Ziva narrowed her eyes when she recognized something in her partner. "No it doesn't. You have been snooping around Special Agent Cahoon's desk!"

"Maybe."

"Tony," Tim shook his head at the blatant display of envy, "this behavior is very unbecoming of a federal agent."

"Just answer the question, McChild of a Navy Admiral. What do you know about USS Navy Destroyers?"

Realizing the question wasn't going away, he answered, "There are three classes of ships, primarily designed to drop torpedoes near much larger ships and dart away. Used very successfully during World War Two. Why do you want to know about Navy Destroyers?"

"Do they do other things besides drop torpedoes?"

"They could. They're fast, travelling up to 30 knots. Again, why do you want to know this?"

Tony shrugged, "Don't worry your pretty little computer chip. Nice work, by the way, on connecting our victim to the resort. I have to see Ducky."

And just like that he was gone, leaving Ziva and McGee to look quizzically at one another.

*******************************************8

"Ah, Antony, what brings you down to Autopsy?"

"Just wondering if Mandy Barnes told you anything we don't already know?"

Ducky looked up from the corpse he was currently examining and studied the agent a beat. The pitfalls of being a psychological profiler is that you can spot a fraud a mile away, and Ducky was very good at profiling people. "As yet, no. But Abby's running the samples I sent her and you should have something when she's done."

Tony wandered around the body of Mandy Barnes, thinking, but not about her or the case.

"What's on your mind, Anthony?"

"What makes you think something's on my mind?"

"Well, the last thing I did last night was to update you on my findings. Not much has changed in the two business hours that have elapsed since then. Yet you are wandering around my body like a caged cat. Why is that?"

Tony scratched his ear, wondering if coming down here was such a good idea. "Well, it's this new guy, Will Cahoon. What do you know about him?"

"Not much. He seems capable, not at all squeamish when it comes to appreciating my work. Seems to ask the right questions."

This wasn't exactly what Tony wanted to hear. He knew all this, what he wanted to know was more basic, more primal. Shaking his head, he interrupted, "Yes, I'm well aware he's a good agent. What I want to know is how does he rub you?"

Dr. Mallard had heard about the jealousy Tony was exhibiting towards this new fellow, but for a split second, he got the feeling that it wasn't jealousy at all. But then the feeling was gone and he was back to being reminded that Tony had insecurities that often reared their ugly heads at the most inopportune times. "I wouldn't worry about him, Anthony. You are better than him in many ways."

"I am not jealous! Why does everybody think—!" he cut himself off, realizing his anger spoke volumes to an educated man like Dr. Mallard. "Sorry. It's just that my gut is telling me something and I don't know what that something is. And I seem to be the only person who has concerns."

"Have you shared your concerns with Gibbs?"

Tony shook his head.

Ducky nodded at this admission, understanding that Anthony DiNozzo was a much more complex man than anyone realized. "If that's the case, why don't you spend more time with Will, get to know him better. It couldn't hurt."

******************************************8

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs barked from his desk.

Startled out of his thoughts, Tony looked over and stumbled, "Yeah, Boss?"

Exasperated that Tony hadn't heard a word of what he'd said, he grabbed his coffee cup and left the bullpen.

Ziva and McGee approached him and stared down, worried.

"What?"

"This is the second time you've managed to piss Gibbs off. It wouldn't be so bad, but he tends to take out his anger on all of us," McGee said.

"You should be thanking me then. He's a better boss when he's angry."

"You seem to be off your game today," Ziva observed.

"Everybody has a bad quarter every now and again," he replied, rubbing his forehead at the ache that was beginning to develop.

"We're all taking Will out tonight," McGee said. "Why don't you come along?"

Tony shrugged.

"It'll give you a chance to get to know him better, and maybe even like him."

"Maybe."

"It'll be good for you. You could—"

"—I said maybe!" And he pushed off his desk and left the bullpen, leaving his two colleagues to wonder about his state of mind.

*************************************8

The bar was noisy by the time Tony arrived. He had taken his date home early feigning some excuse about not feeling well. Given he hadn't spoken two words the entire night, she was not surprised and very understanding, so it was past eleven when he arrived. He spotted his colleagues at a large table not too far from the bar.

"Tony!" Abby shouted, throwing her arms around his neck, "I'm so glad you're here!"

"Me too, Abs."

"Where's your date?" McGee asked.

"I took her home. Too soon to expose her to the likes of you."

Ziva watched him pull up a chair and said, "Will has been regaling us with tales of Afghanistan."

Tony looked at him and said, "You were in the Middle East?"

"Yeah," he replied, "for a period of time. I worked for a private security company until their reputation took a hit. Seems like some of our guys liked to do things their way, which wasn't always the government's way. I decided to leave and join NCIS before I got caught up in the scandal."

"I hear it's pretty tough landing an NCIS gig in Hawaii. How'd you manage that?"

"A friend of a friend of a friend." He took another sip of beer and added, "then I cashed in a favor or two and added a bribe for good measure." This time, the table joined his laughter and Tony realized they were not quite drunk, but working on it.

Tony took a sip of beer and listened as Will guided the conversation exactly where he wanted it to go. When Abby or Palmer or McGee would ask a question, he only ever partially answered it, often leaving out details that Tony found interesting. With every word spoken, the tension in the back of his neck grew proportionately to the bad feeling he was having in his gut, and with every passing hour, his gut was feeling worse and worse.

Finally, Palmer, who was sufficiently drunk by now, asked, "So, Will, tell me… how did your date go with Michelle?"

Will smiled, the way one guy smiles at another when he's gotten some, "Just like you'd imagine. She was dynamite between the sheets."

Tony had heard enough of this guy's conquests and leaned forward. "Listen, Will, she's our colleague and I'd appreciate it if you treated her with a little more respect than that."

You could have knocked everyone over at the table with a feather after hearing his comment.

Will recovered, saying, "I didn't mean anything by it. I—"

Tony stood up and dropped a couple twenties on the table to cover his tab, "I'm outta here."

"Wait!" Will said, standing and grabbing hold of Tony's jacket.

Tony looked from Will's hand to his face.

To Ziva and McGee, Tony was seconds from throwing a punch. Ziva stepped between them, "No need for this," she soothed, pulling Will's hand off and pushing her partner back a step. But before she could further smooth things over, Tony had turned and walked away.

**********************************8

Again, Tony tossed and turned until he finally rolled out of bed, dressed and drove to the Navy Yard. He teased out every activity The Colony by the Sea resort offered its guests, from helicopter rides over the great volcano to scuba trips to the Great Barrier Reef. There was no connection between the four victims. He strummed his fingers on the desk, thinking about the case. It was odd that they hadn't come up with something more concrete than a hotel. It was also odd to be working the case with another agent. He looked in the direction of Cahoon's desk, still not being able to shake the feeling that he had some sort of ulterior motive for being assigned to this case, though Tony had absolutely no proof.

Out of habit, he looked suspiciously around the bullpen before sliding into Cahoon's chair. Once again he logged into the computer and accessed the search logs. Only this time, he found more information on the USS O'Kane. For whatever reasons, Cahoon was tracking this destroyer. Could it be that he has a possible family tie? Maybe a brother or an uncle serving on board?

He filed these questions away so he could revisit them again tomorrow.

***********************************8

Tony woke up late. After coming home from the Navy Yard, he had laid in bed thinking about the two cases: the Bali Killer, and Cahoon. Both cases stumped him.

He stepped off the elevator and saw his team gathered around the plasma. Gibbs looked pissed and glared him down.

"Sorry Boss, traffic was a bear on 395, accident somewhere."

"What'dya got?"

"There's no connection between any of the victims and the activities offered at the resort."

"So, what did the killer do? Just randomly pick these women to kill?"

His team had no good answer to that question and they stood by silently.

"Find that connection! NOW!"

A chorus of "On it!" crowded the air as they each went to their respective desks in search of some commonality among the four dead women.

Tony ignored the glares from his co-workers and punched away on his keyboard. He knew it was his fault that Gibbs was pissed, but he also knew that they had nothing on this case and needed something soon. He opened up two separate search engines and began his queries. The first query was easy: search the personnel records on the USS O'Kane. The second query was a little more tedious. Back in his days as a Baltimore County detective, he'd busted this guy who had a thing for numbers. Everything he did revolved around specific numbers. He was obsessed with them. Unfortunately, he had committed seven murders before he and his partner had figured it out. Maybe the Bali Killer was similar. He didn't notice the man standing in front of his desk.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry about last night," Will said.

Tony looked up. "It's okay," he said. Maybe he was being too hard on the guy. If he found out that his brother was serving on the USS O'Kane, he was going to feel pretty stupid. "Consider it forgotten."

"You were right. I shouldn't have spoken about another NCIS employee like that."

Tony softened and shrugged, "No harm done. You find any connection searching Mandy Barnes' cell phone records yet?"

"Nope, nothing unusual. Normal everyday calls to normal everyday people."

"Keep at it. Something is bound to surface."

"Thanks."

*************************8

Tony was getting hungry. He had worked all morning and had practically exhausted every possible search query at the resort. Taking a lunch break now might assuage his hunger, but it would also give his Israeli colleague an opportunity to confront him, something he knew she was dying to do. But it would have to wait a few more minutes. Gibbs sailed by his desk, "Tony, you're with me in MTAC."

He and Gibbs joined Director Vance on the floor of the dark room and together they stared up at an eight foot head: Captain Ronald Vetter, United States Navy.

"Sir, can you repeat what you just told me to my team leader?" Vance said.

Captain Vetter took a deep breath, like he really didn't want to be saying anything out loud again. "We have a situation. We've been notified that the Navy is transporting weapon grade plutonium. It's classified 'Beyond Top Secret', which means even having the need to know isn't enough to know. For the time being, we're on Alert."

Gibbs asked, "Why is the Navy on Alert, Captain?"

"Potential theft. We've been monitoring the chatter on the lines and it hasn't been good. The reports are scattered and disjointed, but when viewed in a certain kind of light, it's potentially devastating. There are many groups who would do just about anything to get their hands on this shipment. One group in particular, Band of Muslim Brothers, calling themselves BOMB, is a particular threat. If there's a group out there planning on stealing the shipment, it'll be them."

"Appropriate acronym," Tony muttered.

"Do we know how the Navy is transporting this plutonium?" Gibbs asked.

"I'm sure somebody in the Navy does, but not me. The SECNAV is sending out alerts to all NCIS agencies to be on the lookout for suspicious activity."

"We received those orders this morning," Vance confirmed.

"Good," Captain Vetter said. "Remember, don't overlook any complaints and follow up on everything. The last thing we need is for the main ingredient in a nuclear bomb to get into the wrong hands."

"Understood, Captain." Vance signaled the technician and the screen went blank. "I want this kept quiet. Discretion is the game, gentlemen."

Gibbs acknowledged the statement by leaving but Vance called after him, "Where are you on the Bali Killer case?"

"We're working on it. We have several leads to track down."

"Keep me in the loop on both issues."

******************************8

Will Cahoon watched the highly decorated Marine return to his desk. Gibbs was one of those rare individuals who was impossible to read. Whatever he had heard or learned up in MTAC was going to stay in MTAC; he wasn't even going to try to speculate. But as he turned away from Gibbs, his eyes locked with Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo's, and in that split second, he saw something that he didn't want to. It unnerved him. So much so that it made him turn away quickly, but as he did, he felt the steely dark eyes of Agent DiNozzo boring into the side of his head.

Cahoon tried to ignore the feeling, but he couldn't. And he didn't dare look back over at him because he just knew those eyes were still laser fixed on him.

Something inside him clicked. His mind raced, and as it reached its climax, he felt the warm blood rush from his face at the thought that someone might be on to him. Like so many of his plans and schemes, this one may never reach fruition now. It would be all for not when his employer discovered his failure because these guys don't mess around. He was a walking dead man if DiNozzo had figured it out.

He inhaled deeply and brought his mind back around. _'Whoa, Cahoon,_' he thought to himself. _'Let's not get ahead of yourself. One gaze from a fellow agent does not mean anything.'_ With this newfound optimism, he looked at his monitor, forcing his mind not to race ahead or jump to conclusions. He would first verify if DiNozzo knows anything. Then he would deal with it. He remembered the promise he made to himself before coming east: nothing was going to stand in his way this time. Nothing.

*********************************8

Cahoon composed himself and went to work. The first thing he thought to do was pull up the audit trail on his computer. That file would tell him if anyone had used this computer and what they'd done on it. Hopefully, he'd discover that no one but him had used it, and that would knowledge would most definitely set his mind at ease. He glanced around non chalantly, feigning a stretch. Everyone seemed to be working hard, which meant that no one was going to be interested in his little query. He tapped a few keys, remaining conscious of his appearance, appearing business like yet determined to find Mandy Barnes' killer. That is until he saw something. Right there, staring at him, big as day, was DiNozzo's login ID. Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo had accessed his computer at 2:43am last night, and again at 2:28am the night before. And yes, he had discovered the search on the USS O'Kane.

"You find something, Will?" Ziva asked.

"Huh?"

"You look like you've discovered something very important."

"Uhhh…no…not really." He minimized his screen and forced a smile. "Just anxious to uncover a clue."

"We're going for lunch. Would you care to join us?"

"Um, no, I can't. I have to finish up some work here. But, thanks."

"Can we bring you back anything?"

"No, um, I'm not very hungry."

She accepted that and he watched her head towards the elevator along with DiNozzo and McGee.

He collected his composure and headed for the stairwell that led to the back yard where he found the smoking area for employees. It was overcast outside and looked as though it was going to storm, but even with the threat of rain, there were still half a dozen people puffing away on cigarettes. He found a partially secluded place away from the others and pulled out a cell phone. Not the company issued one, but his own personal one. He dialed the number and waited.

A voice picked up, "What."

"I think I've been compromised."

"How?"

"One of the agents here, I think he knows something."

"What are you going to do about it?"

Will was silent, not wanting to articulate his thoughts.

"Bring him to me," the voice on the other end sounded annoyed. "I will take care of him."

Will listened to the silence, knowing he'd been hung up on. A clap of thunder startled him out of his thoughts. If only lightning would come and strike him dead, at least it'd be a less painful death than he was imagining.

***********************************8

McGee was feeling good, even though Gibbs was a tyrant today it was only because DiNozzo couldn't show up to work on time, but he liked having the old Tony back. The jealous Tony didn't sit well with him. "That was nice of you, Tony, to forgive Will. Have you decided he's not worth getting jealous over?"

"I think it was nicer of you to defend Michelle last night," Ziva said. "Although it sounded a little like you know her better than just a casual work acquaintance."

"Now who's jealous?"

"I am not jealous. I just find it hard to believe that you came to her defense."

"Who says chivalry is dead?"

"Back to Will," McGee said, "what changed your mind? Spending an evening listening to his stories, or the apology?"

"It wasn't an evening of listening to his tales, that's for sure. Didn't you find them contrived?"

"No, not really. He just knows how to tell a good story."

Changing the subject, Tony asked, "How would the Navy go about transporting weapons-grade plutonium?"

"I got a better question: _Why_ would the Navy transport weapons-grade plutonium?" Ziva countered.

Tony answered, "We'll never know why, but we might better be able to stop a terrorist threat if we knew how." Turning to McGee, he asked, "By land, air, or sea? How would you transport it?"

"I sure as hell wouldn't use a plane. Depending on how stable it is, a little turbulence could blow the plane to smithereens."

"So that takes air off the table and leaves by land or by sea."

Ziva thought about it and said, "It depends on where they are coming from."

On a whim, Tony threw out, "Hawaii."

"Hawaii? Why would you pick Hawaii?"

"No reason," he said, but he was thinking that way since Pearl Harbor is the homeport of the USS O'Kane.

"Well, if you eliminate by air, and assuming it's coming from Hawaii, it would have to be moved by sea."

"What kind of Navy vessel would do that? Destroyer?"

McGee furrowed his brow, "Is that why you asked me about Navy Destroyers earlier? Do you know something that we don't?"

"I know a lot of things that you don't, McM.I.T, but stay with me. What kinds of ships would the Navy use to transport such precious merchandise?"

"It could be any number of ships, Tony. Any military navy vessel could do it. It would be impossible to guess which one it was."

Tony never finished his lunch which seemed to give his colleagues that much more to nag him about. But he was fairly adept at tuning them out for his brain was already thinking about Will Cahoon and his possible involvement, if any, to the plutonium shipment.

***************************************8

Returning from lunch, Tony stashed his weapon and badge and decided to run one more search pattern against The Colony by the Sea. He keyed in every known statistic associated with the four murders. It took him the better part of two hours, and he thought it was more McGee work than his, but when he was finished, he turned the search program loose and let it run. Now he could turn his attention back to Cahoon and what he was up to. He opened the results screen for the search he'd begun earlier and discovered that Cahoon didn't have any family members on board the USS O'Kane. In fact, looking through the personnel files, it appeared that there wasn't any connection between any of the sailors and William A. Cahoon. Another interesting thing to note was the travel itinerary of the boat. Most destroyers accompany the larger ships and act like an escort, but not this one. Instead of doing the escorting, it seemed like it was the one being escorted. From what Tony could figure out, there was a small army of PT boats escorting it along. And, to add even more intrigue, the shipping manifesto was being blocked.

As he rubbed his chin at all the unusual discoveries, he noticed the very man of interest standing in front of him.

"Hey, Tony," Cahoon began, "how 'bout you and me go for some drinks tonight. I still feel kind of bad about my comment on Michelle and want to make it up to you. What'd'ya say?"

"I can't tonight. Gotta hot date."

"Oh, I see. Maybe some other night then."

"Yeah." Cahoon walked towards the bathroom but he was feeling surer now more than ever that DiNozzo was up to something and could potentially screw up all his hard work.

And as Tony watched him walk away, he was surer now more than ever that Cahoon was involved with something, he just didn't know what yet.

"Why did you turn him down?" Ziva whispered. "Are you still feeling inadequate around him?"

"I do not feel inadequate around him. He—" The ding of his computer alerted him that his search had found something.

As if on cue, Gibbs turned the corner and said, "Whad'ya find?"

"I'm not sure," Tony said, punching on his keys. "I may have found a pattern that connects the four victims." He pushed the files to the plasma and picked up the remote. Ziva and McGee made their way to the plasma screen and watched. "I plugged in all known stats on the four women who were murdered. We know they were killed by the same person, but what we don't know is why. I worked this case in Baltimore County once where the murderer was obsessed with numbers and didn't do anything unless the numbers were aligned."

Gibbs shifted from foot to foot, "DiNozzo…what does this have to do with my dead petty officers?"

"Look at this." He clicked on a log sheet. "We were looking for some commonality for check-in, or check-out, and there is one, just not an obvious one. The first murder occurred on January 1, 2010, the second murder occurred on January 10, 2010, the third murder occurred on August 9, 2010, and the fourth murder occurred on October 10, 2010. There doesn't appear to be a pattern until you look at the dates formatted differently." He then proceeded to change the formatting of each date and display the following: 01/01/10, 01/10/10, 8/9/10, 10/10/10.

Tony said the dates out loud: "One/One/Ten; One/Ten/Ten; Eight/Nine/Ten; and Ten/Ten/Ten. If you're a numbers kind of person, these dates are meaningful. Check out any of the websites that have sprung up addressing this issue. People who are obsessed with numbers do things at certain times and on certain dates. It's like they can't help it."

Gibbs was having trouble making sense of it all, but McGee wasn't. He turned quickly towards his computer, nearly knocking over Cahoon who had returned from the men's room, and began punching at his keys. Cahoon studied the dates while McGee pushed to the screen photos of the victims' watches. "Look at the time on the watch. The first victim's watch stopped at one minute past one; the second victim's watch stopped at ten minutes past one; the third victim's watch stopped at nine minutes past eight, and the fourth victim's watch stopped at ten minutes past ten."

Ziva added, "If we know our murderer is obsessed with numbers, then all we have to do is determine the next date that he or she might commit a murder. But that is nearly impossible."

"Maybe—maybe not," Tony said. "According to the website, , the next meaningful number occurs November 1, 2010, or 11/1/10."

Gibbs' mind began unraveling and he said, "Ziva, I want a list of all people who worked at that resort on those specific dates. Include taxi service and travel agencies."

"On it."

"McGee, make sure that the next date is November 1st. I don't want to lose another petty officer because we missed a so-called meaningful date."

"On it."

"Will, contact the resort and find out if they have any information on people who are known for being obsessed with numbers. See if they've held any conventions recently or come across anyone who would fit that description."

"Okay."

"Tony."

"Yeah, Boss."

"That's good work."

"Thank you, Boss."

***********************************8

Tony returned to his desk with nothing to do. There were things he could do, but most of the areas were covered by his colleagues and so that left some time to follow up on something that was niggling at his brain. While they were punching away on their keyboards, he sauntered off to the men's room, but instead of going in, he veered off towards the steps and detoured down to Abby's lab.

"Hey, Tony. I'm glad you came down. I wanted to commend you for taking up for Michelle. That was very noble of you."

"Yeah, I'm that kinda guy."

She snorted, "No you're not."

"Abs, I have a favor to ask."

"Another one?"

"Can you run this cell phone number for me?"

She took the number and didn't recognize it. "Who's is it?"

"It's better if you don't know."

She ran it and together they studied the numbers. "Most are to Hawaii—" she stopped short and turned to look at him. "Is this Will's phone? I can't believe you!"

"It's not what you think."

"Ziva said you were jealous of him but I didn't believe her. But this?"

"Abby, I have another favor. I need to see the footage of NCIS between 12:30 and 1:30 today."

"Are you crazy?"

"Just do it, please."

She recognized the firm voice and turned back towards her computer. She pulled the video off all exterior and interior cameras for that time period and burned them to a CD. She popped the disc out and handed it over. "I hope you're not spying on one of our own."

"Me too, Abs. And for the record, I'm not jealous."

****************************************88

That evening, Tony placed the CD in his computer, heated up a TV dinner and went through the footage. For the most part, it was boring. He did discover that Angie in Personnel was secretly meeting Andy in Maintenance. The two looked like a match made in heaven.

And then he found what he was looking for: Will Cahoon making a call from a designated smoking area. That's the evidence he needed. All he had to do now was find out who he called. He didn't look forward to cashing in that favor.

As he lay in bed, he contemplated the day's events. By all accounts, it had been productive. By the afternoon, they had several people of interest in the Bali Killer case, but more importantly, they had a means to prevent another murder. It should have been enough to make him fall asleep, and any other time, it would have been enough, but he was working two cases and it was the details of the second one that had him worried. What if the phone call was routine? To a friend or family member? Or Michelle? The only problem with that scenario is the call would have shown up on his phone records that he looked at earlier, and nothing did. He would have to get McGee to do whatever he does to cell towers and back trace the number, not as easy as it sounds given McGee's hesitation to break the law.

He began wondering what search Will did today. Was he still watching the USS O'Kane? Last time he checked, it was due to dock in Norfolk tomorrow. The curiosity built until he rolled out of bed, got dressed and drove to the Navy Yard. It wouldn't take long at all for him to check Will's computer since he didn't have any of his own work to finish. Walking past his own desk, he went straight for Cahoon's and sat down.

As usual, he signed on and began the task of pulling up search files. He was so intent on reading the results that he failed to notice the man standing behind him until he felt the cold barrel of a gun being pressed against his neck.

"Too bad you had to go and figure it out."

Tony recognized the voice immediately and said, "Figure what out, Cahoon?"

"What I'm doing."

"What are you doing?"

"Put your hands where I can see them."

Tony raised his hands and felt the cuffs being roughly slapped on his wrists. "Why are you tracking the USS O'Kane?"

"None of your business. Now get up and move."

"I have an idea. Does weapons-grade plutonium sound familiar?"

Tony crumpled to the floor as the gun crashed down on his skull.

**TBC**

**Thank you to anyone who's commented. Greatly appreciated! ~Jasmine**


	3. Chapter 3

******************************************8

"It was really good working with you, Will," McGee said, shaking his hand.

"And I echo that sentiment," Ziva said, smiling. "I only wish Tony were here to say goodbye."

Will Cahoon smiled, displaying his perfectly aligned white teeth. "I wish he were here, too. I'm afraid I didn't make that great of an impression on him."

"Wait! Wait!" Abby said, shuffling into the bullpen. "I just heard the news. You're going back to Hawaii?"

Will nodded, "Yep, got called back last night. After I sent the information to my office, they felt it would be best if I went back and ran the case from there. What Tony did, well, I wish I could thank him. I don't think I would have ever thought to run a numbers search like he did."

Abby looked around, noticing the senior agent conspicuously absent, but smiled again upon seeing Dr. Mallard and Jimmy enter the area.

"Special Agent Cahoon," Ducky said, "I understand you'll be leaving us?"

"News travels fast around here."

Palmer added, "I walked in this morning with Michelle in Accounting. She's making plans to visit you."

"I know. When I got the word, I called her. I tried to get my boss to let me stay another day so I could properly say goodbye to everyone, but he didn't go for it."

"Can't say I blame him," Gibbs said, rounding the corner to the group of people crowding his bullpen. Extending his hand, he said, "We're going to miss you around her, Will. Anytime you need our help, just ask."

"Thanks, that means a lot."

"Will you send me a postcard? I like to keep them on my wall," Abby said.

"Sure, no problem. I'll keep everyone posted on our progress and when we catch the Bali Killer, you'll be the first to know. And tell Tony, thanks."

Gibbs looked around Ducky to the empty chair. To anyone who didn't know him, he simply looked to be making an observation. But to those who did know him, the empty chair concerned him.

Will graced everyone with one final smile before he headed for the elevator and left. The squad room cleared out but Abby stood in front of Tony's empty desk, staring intently at it. She always felt like she was in sync with him and sort of had a sixth sense where he was concerned. She felt the same about Kate, and now she was having the same uneasy feelings that she had when Kate was killed. "Do you know where Tony is?"

Ziva shook her head, "No. But I would not worry. He is late a lot these days."

McGee chimed in, "Ever since Will joined us he's had his nose bent out of shape."

"Personally, I think he is jealous," Ziva stated.

Abby listened, but something just wasn't ringing true. "Have you tried to call him?"

Her concern got Gibbs's attention and he said, "Abs, what's wrong?"

"I don't know. I just have a bad feeling."

So did he. Gibbs picked up his desk phone and dialed. When he heard Tony's answering machine, he hung up.

"McGee."

McGee picked up his desk phone and dialed Tony's cell. "Boss, he must have turned it off."

Gibbs rubbed his chin. If he let himself, he too would be worried because even though Tony's behavior toward Cahoon was a bit off, he wouldn't have been late today, not after being the one to virtually crack the case wide open. And something in his gut wasn't settling right. "McGee, can you locate his cell?"

A few clicks later, Tim looked up surprised, "It's right here, Boss."

"Where?"

McGee walked over to Tony's desk and opened his top left drawer. Looking down, he saw not only his cell phone, but his badge and Sig as well.

***********************************8

Tony's body had greatly stiffened since his arrival at some unknown destination. He wasn't exactly sure where they had taken him, but judging by the distance they drove and the smell, he'd venture to guess that he was somewhere near the ocean, possibly Norfolk. And that made sense to him since the USS O'Kane was due to arrive sometime today. Looking across the floor, he watched two turban clad men playing cards. "Hey?" he yelled, getting their attention. "Do you think I can use the head?"

One of the gun toting goons looked up from his small table and grunted something to his colleague. The next thing Tony knew, he was being manhandled out of his chair and forced to walk towards a barrel. Standing over it, he regretted looking down. "Are you going to uncuff me or are you going to do this for me?"

In a heavy Islamic accent, the man yelled back to his colleague. Tony didn't understand Urdu, but he did understand body language. After a short heated argument, the goon uncuffed Tony's hands and stood back two feet, aiming his gun directly at his back. Tony took care of business and then endured as his arms were roughly pulled back behind his back and cuffed again. He was then shoved back to his wooden chair.

Throwing caution to the wind, he decided to engage in a little conversation on the remote chance that one of them spoke English well enough to glean some information. "So, you're here waiting for the USS O'Kane to dock." When he got no reaction, he continued, "Yeah, we know all about the shipment that's on board. How much did you pay Cahoon to track it for you?"

That last statement got their attention and the larger of the two men approached him, spewing words that sounded like gibberish.

Tony furrowed his brow at the language, "I'm sorry, big guy, but I don't exactly speak your language."

For his troubles, he received the butt of the rifle across his cheek. He definitely didn't expect it and it took a full minute to rid the stars from his eyes. "That was uncalled for," he said. "I've been nothing but cooperative since I arrived—"

Another hit followed, only this one came across his jaw and blood splattered as the inside of his mouth split open. It took a little longer to recover from that one, and he thought better of saying anything more.

Satisfied, the goon returned to his chair and to his card game. Tony felt the swelling of his eye begin almost immediately, and the blood continued to trickle down his face and the corners of his mouth. He wondered how long it would take Gibbs to realize he wasn't coming into work today.

***********************************8

Ziva hung up the phone, stating, "The search of his apartment found nothing. No evidence of a break-in or struggle."

McGee added, "I'm looking through his computer files right now. Almost everything he's done the past week has been on the Bali Killer case. He did, however, run a search against a Navy Destroyer, the USS O'Kane; homeport: Hawaii."

"Why would he run that?" Gibbs wanted to know.

"I don't know. He was asking about Destroyers earlier. Wanted to know what I knew about them and how the Navy used them." McGee clicked some more keys and reported, "It also looks like he ran a report on all Navy personnel on the Destroyer. It looks like he was searching for the name Cahoon."

Gibbs looked even more puzzled than before, "He was looking for relatives of Cahoon? Why?"

"I think he was quite jealous of Will," Ziva said, "almost to the point of obsession."

Abby sheepishly added, "He did ask me to run Will's cell phone records. He wanted to see who he was calling."

Ducky disagreed, "I don't think what either of you were seeing was jealousy. Tony had come to me asking what I felt about Will Cahoon, but he wasn't interested in what I felt about him professionally. He wanted to know, and if I may use your words, Jethro, he wanted to know what my gut told me about him."

"Me, too!" Abby said. "He came to me wanting to know what I thought about him. He seemed frustrated that everyone was smitten with him. Called him a Boy Wonder even."

Gibbs was as confused as ever. "Of all the Navy Destroyers, why did he pick this one?"

"I can answer that," Director Vance said from the platform. He made his way to the bullpen and said, "I just got confirmation from the SECNAV that the USS O'Kane is the ship transporting the plutonium."

"Tony wasn't jealous of Cahoon; he was suspicious of him," Gibbs surmised. "Check Cahoon's computer."

McGee powered up the desktop and immediately saw a problem. It took him a minute to rethink his position on Cahoon, but when he did, he said, "It's been wiped clean, Boss. Will must have formatted the hard drive before he left."

"He couldn't have," Ziva said. "He got here the same time I did. In fact, we rode up on the elevator together."

"Can you get anything that was on it back?"

"We should be able to," Abby said. "NCIS runs nightly backups." She sat down at McGee's desk and logged in. "McGee, what's the IP address of that computer."

""

"If I can locate the server that this particular computer was backed up to, I may be able to pull it back."

"May be able to, Abby?" Gibbs asked, somewhat exasperated.

"It's just that the tapes that we use to back up our computers are recycled. The files get written over previous data and sometimes they get corrupted."

Gibbs gave Vance a look that conveyed his displeasure.

"We're hit with budget cuts just like everyone else."

"I got it!" she exclaimed. "Now, if I can just restore the data, we'll have the computer back just like it was before the backup, which occurred last night at exactly 10:06pm. This will take a minute because I'm doing a full system restore."

"Ziva, get me Cahoon's boss' number in Hawaii."

A minute later, she handed him a piece of paper with a name and number scribbled on it. Gibbs sat down at his desk and picked up his phone and dialed. "Special Agent Troy Duncan?"

"Yes."

"This is Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS Headquarters, DC. Did you order Special Agent Will Cahoon back to Hawaii?" The pause was significant, but when Gibbs heard what he needed to hear, he said, "You've got a problem on your hands. I'll have my director fill you in," and he handed the phone to Vance. "Ziva, send Special Agent Duncan all that we know about Cahoon."

"It's done, Gibbs," Abby said, pleased that the restore occurred without any hiccups. She vacated the chair and McGee slid in and started digging around.

"It looks like Cahoon was tracking the USS O'Kane. Keeping tabs on it," he said.

Vance had already hung up the phone and asked, "How did Agent DiNozzo figure this out?"

Tim pushed the file to the plasma and said, "Because Tony was snooping around his computer the past several nights. You can see that he logged on at 2:43am three nights ago, and 2:28am two nights ago."

Abby raised her hand and sheepishly added, "Tony asked me to pull some video from the NCIS cameras."

"Of what?"

"I don't know. He said he wanted footage from 12:30 to 1:30 yesterday afternoon from all interior and exterior cameras."

"Go. Bring 'em up!" Gibbs said.

Abby had saved the downloaded files to her temporary folder and hadn't deleted it yet. "It's a lot of viewing time," she stated.

"Gibbs?" Ziva said. "Special Agent Duncan is calling for an all-out manhunt on Will Cahoon. We just received the BOLO. It looks like he sent it out to all agencies."

"Let's not jump ahead of ourselves," Director Vance cut in, thinking about the publicity this would get.

Gibbs didn't care about any publicity and stated, "He may have one of my agents!"

"And possibly enough plutonium to blow up the East Coast!" Vance retorted. "Keep it quiet and we stand a better chance of recovering both Agent DiNozzo AND the plutonium."

"I have the footage ready, Gibbs," Abby said.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs turned his anger back to doing something productive. "Divide it up. Give some to Ziva, McGee, you, and Ducky. If you find something, put it up."

But his words were wasted; they were already scouring the files for clues to Tony's whereabouts.

*************************************8

Tony tried to make out what they were saying, but it was impossible. Not only did he not speak their language, but he wasn't close enough to make out the words. His legs were cramping up and he needed to move around. The blood from his cheek and mouth had long ago dried up and he was pleasantly surprised when his eye didn't swell completely shut. He was in the middle of calculating the amount of time he had been held captive when he heard a large bay door open somewhere. He cocked his head in an attempt to hear the voices as they came nearer.

Unfortunately, he recognized one of them.

"Special Agent DiNozzo," Cahoon said. "Are my men not treating you well?"

"Just a little language barrier is all. Am I correct in assuming that you're planning on stealing the plutonium off the Destroyer?"

"I like you, Agent DiNozzo. You get right to the point and don't mince words. I guess there's no harm in telling you now. I'm not planning on stealing anything, but my associates are. All I had to do was give them the exact location of the ship and supply the manifest. Of course, I did some other things along the way, but mainly they needed me to keep them abreast of her progress as she floated here from Hawaii."

"I hope it was worth it?"

"More than you'll ever know. You see, I made some friends while I was in Afghanistan, not the most savory of friends, of course, but they came with deep pockets. And since I had grown accustomed to a certain lifestyle, you could say I was easily persuaded to work for them. Unfortunately, when my company fell onto hard times and Congress cut the funding to private security firms, I had to look elsewhere for my income and as you know, government jobs just don't pay as well as private ones."

"How did you manage to get transferred to DC?"

"That, my friend, was pure coincidence and quite serendipitous. I couldn't have planned it better if I had been the Bali Killer myself. I'm not, of course, but he afforded me the opportunity to come to DC. With my credentials, I can get on to any ship and any military base around."

Tony listened to the way he answered every question that was thrown at him. He caught himself almost admiring the ease at which he spoke, but then quickly squelched those feelings in favor of the disdain he held for a fellow American betraying his country. "And you think I won't be missed at work?"

"By the time they figure it out, I'll be long gone. I'll have my payment and will have left the country."

"And what about me? I don't suppose you'd consider letting me go?"

He laughed, the kind of laughter that grates on your nerves, "You're right about that. I can't very well just let you walk out of here. I don't think I have to kill you, but that is entirely up to you. I like money, not murder. My acquaintances here… well, they may have a different agenda."

Their attention turned when two more men entered the warehouse and began speaking in a foreign language. Cahoon said a few foreign words and then abruptly left. Tony was now being guarded by four dark skinned men with long black beards. One of them approached him and from the look in his eye, it wasn't going to bode well for him. And he was right. The man sucker punched him in the face with the butt of his rifle and then came down hard on his abdomen. Tony heard the crack of a rib as he spit out more blood, and possibly a tooth.

***************************************8

"I think I found it," Ziva said. She pushed her file to the plasma and the team gathered around it. "You can make out Cahoon as he enters the smoking section of the yard. She zoomed in and highlighted his face. "He moves out of earshot range and makes a phone call."

"McGee, pull his phone records."

"I already did that," Abby said. "Tony had me do it yesterday." She displayed all his phone calls and she noted that none were made at the time they witnessed him making that call.

"He has another phone?"

"A burn phone, no doubt."

"McGee, can you pull the number from the cell towers?"

"I should be able to." He punched on his keys and asked, "What's the exact time of that call?"

"1:04:38," Abby said.

"Okay. There are three towers the signal could have jumped to."

"Can you pull up the numbers that were in use at that time?"

"It could be thousands, Boss." As Gibbs' glare bore a hole between his eyes, McGee followed with, "Yes, I can pull all the numbers that were actively being used."

"I'll take one tower, McGee," Abby said, sliding behind Tony's desk and clicking on his computer.

McGee said, "There are over five thousand conversations at this time on Tower one, and three thousand on tower two."

"And six thousand on tower three."

Gibbs said, "Pull out only those numbers with a Norfolk area code."

"That's good, Boss," McGee said, silently kicking himself for not thinking to do that. "That narrows it down to less than fifty."

Abby added, "And I don't have any on my tower."

"Put up those numbers and tell me where they go. Ziva, find out when the USS O'Kane is scheduled to dock."

"Thirty eight of the numbers go to private residences; four go to hotels, and two go to Oceana Naval Air Station; one goes to a warehouse in the shipyard."

"That's our number. Trace its exact location. Ziva?"

"The ship docks in three hours and forty six minutes, according the log the Captain submitted."

"C'mon. That's how much time we have to get to Tony! Leon, call the FBI. Get Fornell on this."

McGee, Ziva and Gibbs grabbed their weapons and backpacks and trotted off towards the elevators. After they disappeared, Vance asked, "Can they make it to Norfolk in three hours and forty six minutes?"

"If Ziva drives," Abby offered.

******************************************8

Tony had now withstood two more sessions with the one they called Ahmed. He was sadistic and hated Americans. He hated everything America stood for and he especially hated federal agents. Tony hung his head after the last beating. Blood had pooled next to his foot but he wasn't exactly sure where the blood was coming from. At one point, the goon had pulled a knife and had jammed it into his leg so Tony guessed the bulk of the blood had come from that wound though his thinking was being greatly impaired.

The one regret he had right now was listening to his gut. Sometimes he should just ignore it. If he had, he'd be back at his office, sitting at his desk, teasing Ziva or harassing McGee. Sure, he'd never be able to call himself a federal agent again if he had, but at least he wouldn't be watching blood drip from somewhere on his body and splat into a small round pool of blood on the cement floor.

"Get up!"

Tony lifted his head at the command. He wasn't even sure it was directed at him until someone roughly pulled him to his feet.

"It is time to swim with the fishies as your Mafia likes to say," came the heavily accented voice. He laughed at his own joke and then toned, "Walk!"

Tony hobbled across the floor, not sure where they were taking him.

"What are you doing?" Cahoon yelled across the warehouse.

"The ship will be docking soon so we no longer need him."

"We never _needed_ him to begin with, you idiot!" Cahoon sneered. "We don't get rid of him until I say so!"

Tony was roughly turned around and made to walk back to his chair. For whatever reason, Cahoon seemed to have some power over these terrorists. It didn't make sense to him, but William Cahoon didn't make sense to him.

Tony sat down hard, feeling the pain from his leg course through his body. Looking around, he croaked out, "I don't get you, Cahoon. A charismatic young man with everything to live for throws in with a bunch of homegrown terrorists. What's in it for you?"

"Lots and lots of money."

"I've had lots and lots of money and it doesn't buy happiness," Tony gurgled through the blood in his mouth.

"Well, I haven't. I grew up poor, never enough food to eat, not even my own bed to sleep in. My father beat my mother, and my mother beat us. When I got a chance to leave, I left and I never looked back. Now I'm going to be the richest Cahoon to have ever lived."

"You think your family is going to care about all your money? They won't even be able to visit you. The government will be watching them 24/7 for the rest of their natural born days."

"Shut up! I don't need any of this!"

"It's true. You'll be marked for death by your own government and hunted like a dog until the day you die. That is if your newly formed acquaintances don't kill you first."

"CAHOON!"

Heads snapped at the megaphoned voice.

"THIS IS NCIS. COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP. THE BUILDING IS SURROUNDED."

Stunned, Cahoon looked at the other men, who stared back at him in disbelief. "What the hell is going on?" he yelled at his men. They scrambled to the walls and crouched down, ready to open fire.

Ahmed pointed his gun at Tony and yelled, "He brought them here! Kill him now!"

"No!" Cahoon countered, running a hand through his hair, thinking. "He's our ticket out of here!" Turning to Tony, he ordered, "You're going to get us out of here in one piece, you hear me?"

"How do you expect me to do that?"

"Easy. You're going to go out first with me right behind you. You just do what I tell you to do and you might live through it. Got it?"

"What about us?" one of the turban clad men asked.

Cahoon shifted his eyes. "You're always itching for a firefight. They don't even know you're in here. They think it's just me and their precious agent. Surprise them when the time's right."

"Maybe we should kill you and take him hostage?" he sneered. "Then, he can be our ticket out of here."

Tony prepared himself. Four against one, and him in the middle, didn't exactly bode well for either of them.

Cahoon sneaked a peak at each man, who seemed eager to follow a new leader at the least bit of provocation. "I'll tell you what. I'll give you enough time to get you and your men on the roof," he said, possibly because he knew the odds as well as anyone. "Take the boat. They have limited manpower now and won't be able to follow you."

"How do you know that?"

"I just know, damnit! They couldn't have put anything together in the amount of time they had! It's that option, or you follow me out and let them pick you off one by one!"

Tony didn't have a chance to hear the goon's answer for Cahoon had pulled him to his feet and jammed his NCIS issued Sig to his back, "Now start walking. You do what I say, and nobody gets hurts. You try to be the hero, then you're going to end up with a bullet in your spine." He shoved him across the warehouse and towards the metal door. "And in case your life isn't enough, I swear I'll take out as many of them as I can, beginning with Gibbs. And I'm a damn good shot!"

He flung the door open and shoved Tony outside into the bright sunlight. With one hand clutching Tony's collar and the other wrapped firmly around his own gun, he pushed Tony forward.

"Gibbs!" Cahoon yelled. "I have your agent with me."

Gibbs held steady behind his car door. If he felt anything at seeing Tony, he kept it hidden.

"You hear me, Agent Gibbs? If we don't get out of here in one piece, I'm gonna put a bullet through his spine!"

Fornell yelled, "This is the FBI! This place is surrounded, Agent Cahoon! There's no place to go!"

"I swear I'll but a bullet in him if I don't get safe passage out of here! Is it worth it to you Gibbs? His life for mine?"

Ziva took careful aim at Cahoon's head, but he was too close behind her partner to get a clear shot off.

"Give it up, Cahoon. We know about your plans to steal the plutonium. The USS O'Kane isn't docking in Norfolk anymore."

Cahoon hesitated, his mind racing now with thoughts of what was going to happen to him if that Destroyer didn't dock. If those men inside were still in listening range, they could have a thing or two to say about it as well.

"Screw up your plans?" Tony gurgled.

"Shut up!" he hissed at his prisoner. Yelling across the pavement, he said, "Maybe we can work a deal."

"No deal. Put down your weapon. NOW!"

Cahoon heard the shrieks of his own men as they rushed from the warehouse, spraying their AK-47s and yelling, "Death to America! Death to America!"

Gibbs opened fire as did Ziva and McGee. Fornell and his men engaged the terrorist from the sides. Gibbs realized that Tony was caught in the crossfire and watched him and Cahoon go down.

The shootout lasted all of thirty seconds, but to Tony, it felt like thirty hours. Cahoon forcefully fell into him, knocking him to the ground as the terrorists and federal agents razed the area. He heard bullets whizzing by him and felt the warm blood as it seeped out of the many holes of the now very dead William Cahoon.

And then there was silence.

Gibbs raised himself from behind the car door and shuffled carefully across the open lot amidst bloody bodies. Ziva and McGee were behind him, taking aim at every body in case one wasn't quite dead. They fast approached Tony, sprawled out on the pavement. Fornell arrived at the same time and he and Gibbs pulled Cahoon's body off him. Then Gibbs felt for a pulse. "He's alive. Get an ambulance."

Tony's eyes fluttered at the sound of his Gibbs' voice. "Boss?"

"Yeah, Tony, take it easy."

"Am I still alive?"

He smiled, "Yeah, you're still alive."

"What…What took you so long?" he gurgled through blood and saliva.

"You didn't exactly leave us a path of bread crumbs," McGee said, having found the key to his cuffs and was unlocking them, careful not to jar his body too much.

They rolled him over on his back, doing a quick survey of his body. While Gibbs probed for wounds, Ziva used her sleeve to wipe away some of the blood around his eyes, "Why didn't you tell us?"

He chortled, but it only served to produce more pain than amusement. "I tried, but you thought I was jealous."

Ziva imperceptibly dropped her head, ashamed at herself for accusing him of such emotions. "You shouldn't try to talk right now. We've got an ambulance coming."

Tony didn't want to argue with that. Talking hurt, opening his eyes hurt, hell, just breathing hurt. He heard someone say something about his leg and then felt pressure on it as it was tied off. Evidently, he took a bullet in his thigh, another in his shoulder, and someone was applying pressure to his abdomen. He heard Fornell's voice, and the sirens, but he soon let himself be taken by fatigue, and he drifted off, unaware of his colleagues' worried faces.

*************************************8

When he woke up, he was strangely confined. He wasn't sure if he was dead or just in a nice comfortable place where he felt like he was floating. He could hear voices, but they were too far away to try and make out what was being said, and besides, he was way too comfortable to care. He closed his eyes again and drifted back off into a blissful slumber.

***************************************8

Tony's eyes fluttered.

"I think he's waking up," Abby said. She was still holding his hand and had been for the past two hours, ever since the doctor had given them the green light to see him.

Ziva was on the other side of him, catching herself at times stroking his arm and willing him to wake up. "You have been saying that for the past hour, Abby."

"I know, but I think this is different."

Tony opened his eyes, wearily, and closed them again.

"It's okay, Tony. You can wake up now."

He opened his eyes again and focused on Abby. She was beautiful in her black pigtails and red lipstick.

"How are you feeling?"

He ran his tongue over his teeth and then responded, "Like shit."

She smiled, "That's about right."

He tried to shrug, but it didn't work. "Where am I?"

"You're in Norfolk General Hospital," Ziva answered. "Do you remember what happened?"

Tony thought back to the last thing he remembered and said, "I remember Cahoon wanting to make a deal. You didn't make one, did you?"

"No," she answered. "But I think I owe you an apology."

He narrowed his eyes and tried to look at her more squarely. "Did you shoot me?"

"I might have; there was a lot going on. But that is not why I owe you an apology."

Tony eye's felt heavy but he tried to keep them open because he wanted to hear this.

"I accused you of being jealous, and for that, I am sorry."

McGee chimed in, "I, too, owe you an apology."

"Did you shoot me?" Tony mumbled through swollen lips and bandages.

"Absolutely not," McGee added with confidence.

Abby interrupted, "I think we all owe you an apology. We were all taken in by Cahoon's good looks and charisma. Well, all of us except for you."

Tony tried to acknowledge their apologies, but all his energy was being used to keep his eyes open. Finally, he asked, "What happened to me?"

"The doctor said you have a cracked rib, twenty-eight stitches, a mild concussion, and too many cuts and bruises to count," Gibbs said. "And you took two bullets—one in your shoulder and one in your leg."

Tony couldn't see his boss, just hear him, but it was the voice that made him relax and both Ziva and Abby felt it. Tony knew now that he was going to be okay. But with all that was wrong with him, he wondered why he didn't hurt more. "Did you shoot me?"

Gibbs chuckled and shook his head, "Nope. If I had, you'd be dead."

Tony bobbled his head, knowing Gibbs was speaking the truth.

"You can thank Cahoon for you being alive," McGee said. "When his buddies opened fire on everybody, Cahoon actually shielded you from the bulk of the gunfire. I doubt he knew he was doing it at the time, but he fell on top of you and basically took any bullets that came your way."

Tony thought back and remembered the gun blasts and the screaming. "He was killed by his own goons?"

Gibbs asked, "Looks that way. Did he tell you why he did it?"

Tony looked around, like he was searching his brain for an answer. "Money. He wanted money." His eyelids grew heavier and he half closed them. He heard his colleagues talking, and then he heard them leaving, but he sensed a presence in the room. When he turned his head and opened his eyes again, he saw Gibbs for the first time.

His boss patted his shoulder and then gave it a gentle squeeze. "You did good, Tony. Real good. But the next time your gut's telling you something, share it with someone."

"I tried, Boss."

Gibbs actually sighed because he knew he had. Even he had been caught up in Cahoon's likeability factor and it almost cost him his best agent's life. "I know you did. But next time, make us listen to you."

Gibbs wasn't sure if Tony even heard that last statement for his eyes were now completely closed and he looked as though he'd drifted off to sleep. He pulled up a chair and forced himself to think back to the firefight, something he'd not done until now for reasons he didn't want to think about. But he had to face his own feelings and figure out what they meant.

There was a moment during the gunfight when he saw Tony get hit by a bullet and go down. In that split second, he thought the worst, something he'd been trained not to do. For whatever reason, his mind went where it shouldn't have gone, and the worst possible feeling washed over him. In the dead heat of the gun battle, he felt the same way he felt when he'd learnt about his wife and daughter being murdered. It was a feeling that he promised himself he'd never experience again; he took precautions against it. He was determined to never feel that kind of hurt ever again because he had sworn off the possibility of letting anyone ever get that close to him again. He wouldn't allow it.

But it happened. Surreptitiously, it would appear that his agent had gone and done just that. He had let his senior agent fill that void in his life. Staring down on him, he inhaled slowly. Tony had no idea the role he played in his life, and Gibbs shuddered at the thought of him knowing. He reached over and carefully placed his hand on Tony's arm. It felt good; it made him feel good knowing he was here and okay. Tony stirred slightly, but never woke. "Next time, Tony," he spoke softly, "I'll be there for you. I promise."

**~~Fini**

**Thanks for reading and commenting. Off to finish another dust bunny. ~Jasmine**


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